


Would You Save Me?

by Mossyrock



Series: Ineffable Husbands Bingo [14]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands Bingo (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Dumbarses, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 05:29:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21440995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossyrock/pseuds/Mossyrock
Summary: “Would you save me, if I was dying?” Aziraphale asked Crowley.A question that prompts a discussion, that prompts certain confessions.For my Ineffable Husbands bingo prompt - Dying.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Husbands Bingo [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1476251
Comments: 3
Kudos: 117





	Would You Save Me?

“Would you save me, if I was dying?” Aziraphale asked Crowley one day, apropos of absolutely nothing.

Crowley awakened from his daydream with a start.

“You can’t just die, you’re an angel.” He was confused and slightly concerned at the suddenness and seriousness of the question.

They had previously been companionably sitting in silence - while Aziraphale read and Crowley lazed, somewhere between awake and asleep. The bookshop back room was warm and cosy, and Crowley enjoyed the sounds of Aziraphale turning pages and occasionally exclaiming at a particularly well written passage or sudden plot twist, as he dozed.

“Yes, but imagine I could,” Aziraphale pushed forward.

“In this scenario, you’re a human?” Crowley’s mind was racing. Of course, the answer would always be yes, he would always save him, even at the cost of his own life. But he didn’t need to let Aziraphale know that.

If he asked questions, asking for details, he could stall long enough for his ‘yes, I’d do anything for you,’ not to be quite so suspicious.

“I suppose so, yes,” Aziraphale huffed. He clearly hadn’t been expecting follow up questions.

“And am I still a demon?”

“What difference does that make?” He was as annoyed now as Crowley had ever seen him. His arms had crossed in front of him defensively and he had an adorable little wrinkle in his brow.

“It matters. If I’m trying to save you from hellfire or if it’s something that requires a little… Undivine intervention, then it matters a lot. If I’m human, then assuming I have no medical training, I’d do my best, but it probably wouldn’t do much good. It depends on how you’re dying. Why are you asking this anyway, angel?” He was worried. Angels weren’t a melancholy bunch by nature. If Aziraphale was imagining his own (admittedly improbable) death, Crowley was concerned. So concerned that he’d sat up from his lounging and was watching him carefully.

“I was just thinking.”

“Well, stop it. Or think about something happier.” It was a bizarre state of affairs when a demon was telling an angel to be a little more optimistic.

Aziraphale didn’t reply, but he continued to sit in his armchair looking extremely put out. Crowley watched him from behind his glasses. He was still thinking about it, Crowley could tell. He could almost see the thought bubbles above his head.

“We could’ve died, Crowley,” He mumbled, after a few moments. It was like the lightest whisper, and something in his voice had Crowley’s heart aching.

Crowley knew that they could've – and should’ve – died as well as the angel. And they still could. They may have been released from their obligations to their head offices, but Crowley knew that wasn’t the end of it. They would be watched. They were dangerous rebels, who needed to be observed and, if they put one more toe out of line, he knew neither Heaven nor Hell would hesitate to try to assassinate them again.

It was unlikely they would fail a second time.

Yet, despite that, Crowley felt freer than ever. He knew that he and Aziraphale had been on the outs from their organisations for a while, too isolated and ‘different’, but now at least no one was pretending. Hell was free to openly despise and distrust him and he was free to tell them where they could all go – in charming Technicolor and sparing no profanity.

He did worry about Heaven though. They didn’t seem the types to just give up and let an angel get away with blatant insubordination. After all, he’d been banished just for hanging with the wrong crowd and asking some difficult questions. What would they do to an angel who actively worked with a demon and continued to ignore all of Heaven’s directives?

Why was it that humans could be forgiven, but angels couldn’t? One mistake and that was it – Fall or be eliminated?

For such apparently loving, gentle and forgiving creatures, they didn’t seem very... well, angelic, for lack of a better word.

Maybe that was why hearing Aziraphale put that thought into words was so terrifying for him. For them both.

They were only as immortal as their respective sides let them be.

He didn’t know what happened to angels and demons who were exterminated. Was there an afterlife for those who had died in Heaven or Hell? An after-afterlife? He doubted it. But if Aziraphale had been destroyed, when they performed their magic switching act, Crowley would’ve wanted to go with him. Of that, he was certain.

Losing him would have killed him surer than holy water.

Because he loved him. Which had been a bit of a surprise, when he’d realised. Demons didn’t love. Or trust. Or laugh. Or smile. But Aziraphale’s goodness and love for all things seems to have been contagious. The more time Crowley spent with him, the happier he felt and the more he fell just a little further in love with him. It was rather inconvenient for the demon, who was supposed to lurk and scowl and despise everything. But Crowley couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He’d never been that good of a demon anyway.

Or he’d been too good to be a demon.

Either way, Hell had wanted to be rid of him for centuries.

“I know we could’ve died, but we didn’t.” Crowley didn’t want to think about it, and he definitely didn’t want to talk about it.

“But we could’ve,” He was looking almost desperately at Crowley, like he would reassure him. Crowley wanted to, but he didn’t have the first idea to comfort the angel, when they would both know he was lying.

“Angel, what’s going on?” He knew this was more than just a hypothetical. Aziraphale was getting himself too worked up.

“Nothing,” He pouted. Crowley sighed and looked at the angel, incredulous, from over his glasses. The angel avoided his eyes, but Crowley was persistent and patient. He could wait.

It didn’t take long for Aziraphale to crack.

“I just wanted to know if you would save me.”

“Why?” He asked. Hadn’t he already saved him so many times?

“Because I wanted to know if you cared,” He whispered and played with the books on his desk, picking them up one by one, not looking at them and then placing them back down again. When he was done, all the books were in exactly the same spot as they had been before.

Of course, Crowley cared. Too much. Far, far too much.

“Why?”

“Because… Just because,” He trailed off. Maybe it was the low lighting, but it looked to Crowley as if the angel was blushing.

“But you don’t care about me.” Crowley tried not to sound too bitter about that. He suspected he failed though, when Aziraphale turned to him, aghast.

“Why would you say that, my dear?”

“I believe your exact words were ‘_I don’t even like you!_’ and 'w_e're not friends!'_” His impression of the angel was woeful, and mocking, but he didn’t care. They’d moved on from the argument, as if it’d never happened. Which meant they didn’t discuss it. They just ignored it and all the implications of it.

But Crowley hadn’t forgotten it. Aziraphale may have forgiven him (which was an angel’s job, really), but Crowley hadn’t really forgiven Aziraphale. 

But he couldn’t let Aziraphale know that, because if he did, he’d have to let him know that he’d hurt his feelings and Crowley tried very hard to pretend like he didn’t have feelings. It was a demonic credibility thing. 

As if he still had any credibility left to lose.

Aziraphale was clearly taken aback. He was wide eyed and blinking at Crowley owlishly. They didn’t need to blink, but they had both learned early on that if they didn’t, it scared people away. It was the same with breathing. They couldn’t very well do much tempting or blessing when everyone ran away screaming. It was something the other angels and demons didn’t seem to have mastered quite yet.

“I’m so sorry, my dear. I didn’t mean it.”

The sincerity was so strong it almost physically hurt Crowley. He wasn’t built to withstand such levels of earnestness.

“It’s fine. I’m a demon. Unlikable.” He shrugged. He’d retreated behind his glasses.

“That’s not true at all.” Aziraphale reached a hand towards him, but since they were sat on opposite sides of the room, it was a useless gesture. His hand wobbled in the air for a moment, before flopping back into his lap.

Crowley felt guilt creeping up his spine at the devastation on Aziraphale’s face. But he fought it back. He was supposed to be angry.

“I thought angels weren’t supposed to deceive.”

Aziraphale’s eyes became sadder. Crowley was losing hold of the anger by the second.

“We aren’t. But I never meant to deceive or hurt you, Crowley.”

“Yeah, well.” He looked away, making sure to actually turn his head so Aziraphale knew he was being ignored. He sometimes worried that Aziraphale could see through his glasses and read his eyes, but surely if he could, he’d have brought up the fact that Crowley stared at him - a lot - long before now.

“Crowley, my dearest, please, look at me,” He begged. Crowley thought briefly about disobeying, but his eyes had flicked to look at him without him giving them permission. Curse his need to constantly indulge Aziraphale’s every request.

“What?” He snapped. He knew he shouldn’t. It was like screaming at an innocent puppy, because Aziraphale wouldn’t hurt a fly. In fact, the angel took great pains not to hurt a single living creature. He’d trodden on an ant once and hadn’t been satisfied until he’d blessed its tiny body. Crowley had sighed and rolled his eyes, making a big show of how ridiculous he found it, but secretly he found it just a little endearing.

Still, he made sure to miracle all tiny creatures out of their paths since then. They didn’t have time to go around blessing every little thing.

“I’m so sorry. You must know how much I care for you,” Aziraphale’s eyes had welled up.

“Must I?” He sneered.

“Of course, you must.” At the shake of Crowley’s head, Aziraphale softened even more and stuttered, “After all of this you still don’t know?”

Crowley assumed the ‘all this’ was the near end of the world. But it didn’t make him any less confused.

“No, I don’t know.” He was getting pretty damn frustrated. And if Aziraphale told him that they were indeed very good friends, he might just combust in a poof of hellfire. He might die of a broken heart, like he had slowly been doing for centuries. Possibly millennia.

“Oh, Crowley. I’m afraid I’m messing this all up, aren’t I?” He sighed, and then looked back up at Crowley with determination written all over his face.

“I love you,” Aziraphale breathed, giving a teary smile.

“Sure, angel. You love all creatures, great and small. Tell me something I don’t know,” He scoffed.

“No. You misunderstand. I love you. More than any other creature. More than as an angel loves all beings. I love you as more than a friend. More than anything,” He rambled. He eventually stopped himself and smiled at Crowley again. Waiting for some sort of reaction.

Meanwhile, Crowley had lost all capacity for speech. Aziraphale began fidgeting. When Crowley didn’t immediately reply, he started to backtrack.

“Oh dear. I’ve offended you, haven’t I? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Aziraphale was getting himself into a state again.

“Angel, stop.”

He went completely still, clearly waiting for Crowley to do or say something. He was just breathing, so softly. He looked terrified that Crowley was going to do something like walk out or yell.

Crowley took a second, closing his eyes behind his glasses and taking a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, Aziraphale hadn’t moved, except to tilt his head slightly.

Crowley didn’t think he was dreaming or hallucinating. Had he actually died after all and this was some type of strange afterlife? Maybe he’d been wrong all along and there was such a thing.

“You’re saying that you are interested in me in a… romantic way?” He needed to be sure, because if it turned out he was reading this wrong and got his hopes up for nothing, he would voluntarily step into a shower of holy water.

“In that I want to touch you, hold your hand, maybe kiss? Spend every day with you? Yes.”

Crowley was kneeling on the floor in front of Aziraphale before he’d even had the thought to move and far faster than would be possible for a terrestrial being. It took a second for the light and air around him to rearrange, accommodating his breaking of all the laws of physics, just to be closer to his angel. 

“Angel, I swear, if this is some kind of fever dream or torturous vision, I’m going to kill whoever is responsible.”

Aziraphale looked down at him, brow furrowed and hesitant. But hopeful. The hopeful light in his eyes gave Crowley a boost of confidence.

“You mentioned kissing. Wanna try it?” He smiled, what he hoped was a reassuring grin, up at him.

“Oh! Yes, please.” Aziraphale wiggled and smiled, like he’d been offered a second helping of pudding.

“Thank God,” He breathed, before leaning in and finally getting a taste of divine blessing.

Angels and demons didn’t have currency. But if they did, a significant amount of it would’ve changed hands as both Above and Below observed what they had long suspected. Even Michael, who didn’t care for anyone involved, felt the love that radiated from the pair. If asked, it made them feel sick.

One day, when the war finally came, these two would be stuck in the middle, but for now, they were safe. And they would protect each other, no matter what. 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, any typos please let me know. 
> 
> It's all fluff all the time over here. These two are just so soft and fluffy.


End file.
